Two Sides, One Galleon
by Tiresia
Summary: Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, has left Privet Drive far earlier than Dumbledore anticipated and is now staying at the Leaky Cauldron, having found his inheritance and preparing himself. Harry aims to become far better than he would be in school alone. Without Dumbledore's constant interference, who will Harry become?


**Disclaimer:** I dos not own Harry Potter, or anything franchises, really. Some of the ideas in here I also don't own. Anything you DON'T recognize, I might own.

A thousand years ago, in the heart of Hogwarts, Rowena Ravenclaw stared at the vat of potion before her, thinking. Unbeknownst to her friends and family, Rowena had encountered an Oracle, one who spoke of the distant future. It seemed that much of her knowledge, much of their knowledge, was to be lost when a great dark lord would rise and truly threaten Hogwarts.

The raven-haired founder stared at the potion. It would do fantastic things to the drinker, but would leave them unrecognizable to those that knew them. Knowing it would be but half an hour before it was done, she conjured up a copy of her own body and left it on the bed. She knew faking her death was illogical, but, something told her it was best for Rowena Ravenclaw to disappear from the world in order to enact this grand scheme.

So it was, hours later, when Helga Hufflepuff discovered the death of the her friend.

-HPTSOG-

Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, sat in utter silence. His last few days at Diagon Alley, due to his abandoning the Dursley home, had left him contemplating many things about himself and his education. The room wasn't very nice, but it was suitably good enough for him to live in for a time. Tom, the bartender, had also given him a discount for being, well, Harry bloody Potter. That was a perk, albeit a minor one, about being famous. Things were usually given to him with less resistance than most others would encounter. Harry felt guilty, of course, but that didn't stop him from abusing it when necessary.

After thinking about it for some time, it being his education, Harry stood up and grabbed his bag of galleons from the dresser. It was time to treat himself, and time to learn. After those with the Dursleys, he had never been able to do much that would please him, and any oddities were attack with whatever was at hand, immediately. Harry's mind drifted back to one of the more peculiar, and recent, events. The one in question had happened three days after his return to Privet Drive.

The typical blue house, with its typical garden, vehicle, and so on, sat in its usual place looking the furthest thing from abnormal. Luna Lovegood's house, in comparison, was like something out of a story book. A simple castle-style tower, her was. In a room upstairs of the blue house, the smallest one to be exact, a young raven-haired lay asleep in bed. It was a mere 5:30 in the morning and no one seemed to be stirring, at least for the time being. The lone owl, her cage floor covered in various pellets and other owlish things, hooted loudly.

Like it was the usual alarm, and it was, the raven-haired figure yawned very loudly as they sat up. The silence throughout the house, and the happy greeting hoot of the owl, caused the figure to smile tiredly, the raven hair glinting red for a split second. As Harry finally stood, he wobbled slightly. Catching his balance, he opened the cage, got a happy hoot and a quick nuzzle from Hedwig as he opened the window, and smiled as she coasted off on the winds. The boy turned back around and made for the door, almost losing his balance again as he walked out through the doorway and down to the downstairs bathroom. The upstairs one was, according to Aunt Petunia, only for her Duddykins. Harry agreed, this being due to the fact that when Dudley was done he usually did not flush, and, with his size and unhealthy eating habits, could turn the bathroom into something resembling the inside of a garbage truck in smell and looks.

So it was, when he finally got downstairs and looked in the mirror, his scream wasn't heard perfectly by Dudley, nor Vernon. However, moments later, Aunt Petunia came storming downstairs and almost ripped the door from its hinges in her rage. Hissing, she spoke as she saw the figure in the bathroom cringing in fear. "Boy, why have-" Aunt Petunia froze as she looked into the face below her.

Harry stared back, and flinched as Petunia dragged him out of the bathroom and started hitting him violently with the nearest grabbable object, thankfully only the broom this time. "How dare you use such hideous abnormalities in our home! Disrespectful," she annunciated each word with a smack, "Hideous. Freak!" At the final hit, Harry looked very much like Harry, and less like the redhead that had been seen in the mirror. Petunia finally stopped, once he had gone back to normal.

Harry shivered slightly at the memory, before stashing the galleons in his pockets and heading out into the building herself. Passing Tom with a nod, a nice man as far as Harry could tell, and heading out the back door, he tapped the bricks with his wand. According to Fudge, Harry wasn't allowed to udnerage magic and, when Harry had asked Tom, the bartender had said that the Trace was a "load of jack shite" in areas like Diagon Alley. Too many wizards, witches, and just too much magic in one area for them to even try. As such, Harry had practiced most of the spells he knew in the room and got quite proficient with them.

Tom had also been nice enough to inform Harry of a nearby training area, down an Alley Harry hadn't known about before. Of course, when Tom hesitated, Harry was confused but thanked him anyways. Instead of going to the Alley, named Partia Alley, Harry made his way through Diagon and stopped at Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment and began browsing, finally stopping at the trunks. He had browsed quietly before a man came out from another isle, "Ah, hello. Apologies I couldn't help when you entered. Business sometimes requires a bit of finesse, which is not easily achieved from a storefront," the man said, approaching Harry and eyeing him for a minute, "Ah, yes. I see," he pointed at a reasonably sized trunk, "Perhaps not those, Mister Potter. What you need is quite an expanded trunk. This one holds several rooms, each about the size of a large bedroom. Some of which are already furnished, which I am pleased to let remain if you wish. There is a Potions lab, a small library, a study, a practice room, and other miscellaneous ones."

Harry frowned at the shopkeep, "How did you know what I was looking for?"

"Mister Potter, I am not well versed in the news of these days, beyond the tidbits my customers bring in, but I know enough to recognize the young man destined, or so they say, to defeat Voldemort," the shopkeep answered a small grin on his face, "And, between you and me, the Order much enjoys their own trunks. And, while this may lose me some money," the shopkeep chuckled, "Your parents, according to my father, had trunks much like these, though somewhat behind in size and such as this one."

Harry nodded and eyed the trunk, before looking back at the shop keep, "Will trunks be able to fit inside it, such as my parent's?"

The man smiled, and nodded in response, "Yes indeed. A complicated bit of magic, and one secret I am very much happy to have patented."

Harry nodded and began digging through his pockets, "How many galleons?"

"Normally I would charge around 200 Galleons for a trunk like this," Harry bit his lip and checked his pockets, "However, as a sort of legacy program, if you will have your own children buy from our shop, I will charge only 180."

Harry frowned, even then he didn't have nearly enough on him. The shopkeep saw his frown and merely smiled in return, "I suppose you don't have enough with you?"

Harry nodded.

"Well," the man motioned him towards the front of the store and pulled out a paper, handing him a quill, "Sign your name, at the bottom and then initial once I've filled out the information." Harry nodded and signed his name, with a slight flourish, at the bottom of the parchment and then turned to the the shopkeep, most likely Mr. Wiseacre. The man jotted a few things down with a quill, before slipping the parchment to Harry who initialed it. "Excellent, now, I will shrink this down for you. All you need to do is use the same charms to such, easy enough."

Harry nodded in appreciation, before Wiseacre lead him to the trunk, "Reducio," he picked up the now suitcase sized trunk and passed it to Harry, who nodded gratefully as he grabbed the handle, "The form you filled out is basically just letting me, and Gringotts, now how much needs to be transferred to the store. If you had a house elf, they could take care of extracting money you need."

Harry nodded in appreciation again, "Thank you very much sir," Harry answered and headed out the door, unaware of the small strip of paper on the trunk as he headed across the road to Flourish and Botts. The bookstore, much a favorite of Hermione's, which caused Harry to chuckle a bit, was just as pristine. Not a speck of dust on any of the books, nor out of order in any way. The signs dictating each subject the section was for. Harry started grabbing as many books as he could, one of the usual wheelbarrows in front of him. Oh, if Hermione could see him now. Once he had as many books as he could pile in, and then some, he grabbed a second barrow and filled it up somewhat as well, mostly with copies for Hermione, and some different books for her. Walking up to the desk, he pulled both barrows, the one for Hermione pulled with a charm he had learned recently, "Excuse me," he called out to the clerk, "Is there anywhere I can put these while I keep shopping? I'm afraid I still have a library to fill."

He frowned at the feeling of something being off, "Of course," the clerk directed him to a corner near the desk. After labelling the one for Hermione with a bit of parchment, he started again with another barrow. By the time he had finished, he most certainly had enough to fill the small library in his trunk, which caused him to facepalm almost immediately. Deciding he'd have to get Hermione a trunk in the next few days, Harry filled out another sheet and began the process of unshrinking his trunk and putting the books into the trunk. The levitation charm proved to be a huge help as he sorted the books into piles in the small library of his trunk. Magic was still a mystery to him, but the amazing things it could do were just as mind-boggling as he had originally thought.

With a bit of satisfaction, Harry finished putting away the books and decided that, in all honesty, Hermione was best for the task. Holding the chosen book in hand, 'Magic, The Body, The Soul: A Guide to Training Your Magical Core and You!', which he hoped would come in handy at the probable 'gym', he exited the trunk and closed it, finally noticing the small piece of parchment. When he removed it, he found it to be directing him to a shop down Partia Alley. "Cornwall's Wizarding Health, specializing in helping problems with vision and other various minor ailments?" Harry read aloud, before musing. It would be quite a boon to not have his glasses, with how many issues they caused.

And so it was, after visiting the Apothecary and following the same process, mostly, as Flourish and Botts, Harry stopped at Gringotts before heading down this new Alley. Harry nodded respectfully to some goblins as he headed towards the goblin at the podium on the other end of the room. As usual, the ornate structure of Gringotts gave a feeling of awe and, slightly, oppressing vibes. He greeted the goblin, "Harry James Potter, here to make a withdrawal."

The goblin eyed him, "Good afternoon, mister Potter. If you will follow Griphook, I will see you when you return to check your status and give you your inheritances." Harry blinked, before nodding. The goblin, whom he greeted, led him down to the vault in question, Harry's trust vault.

"Thank you, Griphook," Harry said, causing the goblin to blink in surprise for some reason. The goblin nodded in response and the exited the vault, hopping onto the cart. At it's usual high speeds, they flew back up the massive corridors, vaults and other goblins blurring at the high speeds before it finally coasted to a stop at the top. Griphook climbed off the side and allowed Harry to follow before leading him off to the side where a long hallway greeted him. They finally entered the room at the end of the hall, or at least Harry did. Griphook nodded to the other goblin, shut the door, and left.

"Mister Potter," the goblin greeted, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Harry nodded and bowed, "Yours as well...?"

"Narltooth," he answered, "I run Inheritances tests here at Gringotts."

"Ah, so, what does that entail?" Harry asked.

"I'll review your blood and magic, the first being both to determine if you are indeed Harry Potter and inheritances, the second for unexpected inheritances," he answered, waving his hand at the papers and such before him. "Magical inheritances are rare, but far from unique."

"So, I just place my hand on one of the papers or something?" Harry asked, eyeing the papers with a slight amount of caution. He wouldn't hesitate to allow a drop or two of his blood to spill, if needed, but it would be more pleasant to not do so.

"Quite right, the paper will draw it from you magically, no more than a drop in total," the goblin responded, "At the same time, it will analyze your magic. Far more simple than last century."

Harry nodded in agreement, "And far less legal than the Muggle way," he joked as he placed his hand on the paper, watching in slight amounts of awe as several lines of scratch-like runes spread across the second paper. Immediately the goblin took it and Harry removed his hand. A slight tingle, but no pain.

"Oh, very interesting, and shocking in one case," the goblin said, causing Harry to raise an eyebrow, "Well, Mister Potter, or should I say 'Lord' Potter-Slytherin-Ravenclaw-Black," the goblin laughed a bit and Harry chuckled slightly in nervousness, "It would seem you are quite a recipient. Potter, by blood of course, and Ravenclaw," this caused Harry to raise an eyebrow in a bit of shock, "Black, by will, which I will be pulling to read and distribute as it seems Mister Black was incarcerated, and lastly," the goblin frowned, "Slytherin. By magic, most peculiar."

"Would that be why I can speak Parseltongue?" Harry inquired, causing the goblin to frown, "Indeed it might, indeed it might. If you wouldn't mind Lord Potter, it would seem that our inheritance test, which checks for curses and Polyjuice, has detected a fairly odd curse on you. We would bring in a curse breaker to examine you, is that acceptable?" The goblins seemed far more formal.

"Please call me Harry, and if you think it will be for the best, please do so immediately," Harry answered, nodding to the goblin. Narltooth nodded and snapped his fingers, causing, it would seem, Griphook to return from the hall.

"If you would, Griphook," the second goblin disappeared and Harry and Narltooth sat in the room in silence. After a few painstaking minutes, the door opened and a ginger man, bearing remarkable similarities to the Weasleys, followed Griphook into the room.

"Oh, Harry Potter, I've heard a lot about you from my brothers," the obvious Weasley family member said as he saw Harry.

Harry blinked, "Erm... Bill, right?"

"Got it in one," the man grinned and Harry noticed an earring in one of his ears. A fang, to be exact. Bill walked over to Narltooth and, after a few moments, nodded in understanding, "Right, let's see," he pointed his wand at Harry and muttered something unintelligible before frowning.

"Its pretty attached but I think I can get it, I just need to anchor it to something," he answered, before waving his wand a bout momentarily and conjuring up a rock. " _Ecasis Mortum,"_ Harry felt his scars sear with pain and his eyes water as he braced himself on the table. " _Forte Corporis,_ " and finally, he flicked his wand, " _Manar Seris Anima,"_ A black mist sprayed from the scar on Harry's head and raced down to the rock.

"Nasty," Bill said, "You'd have to be horrible human being to make one of those, let alone put it in another person," he shuddered.

"Indeed, Mister Weasley. We will," the goblin nodded to Griphook, "be destroying this in the same manner as usual."

"Hold on," Harry said, wincing at the dull ache in his head, "What the bloody hell was that?"

"A Horcrux," Bill responded, grimacing at the rock as Griphook placed it in a small box, "nasty piece of work, typically find 'em in old Egyptian ruins. This one must be, well, I'm honestly not sure."

"Voldemort's."

"Indeed, Mister Potter," Narltooth said, shocking Bill but Harry continued to look remorse, "the magic coming from that was indeed very similar Tom Marvolo Riddle's."

"...Is that You-Know-Who's real name?" Bill asked even more baffled while Harry raised an eyebrow in shock.

"It is, we have all blood and magic on record, it is why Mister Potter has received the House of Slytherin, for he has bested Voldemort and contained a reasonable fraction of that man's own soul, if you can call such an abomination that."

Bill shivered, "Alright, well, I'll be going. Tell the others I said hi, okay Harry?"

The raven-haired boy nodded, "So, what comes with each of those?"

"Both the Black and Potter houses were fairly wealthy, Harry," Narltooth said, "Ravenclaw is well-off, though what you will find in the vaults will be mostly artifacts, books, and so on. Slytherin holds naught but a single small house in a town called Little Hangleton."

"Right... I don't suppose I could get a summary of all that before I leave?" Harry asked.

"Certainly, I'll draft it up once I am finished with the reading of Mister Black's will," the goblin responded, "Which, since you are the main benefactor, we will read to you and then the rest shall be given in smaller readings."

"Thank you," Harry bowed slightly, feeling it was necessary.

The goblin's lips twitched, almost forcing a smile. After a second, he relieved a box of a stack of papers, which lay at the far side of the room, "I had already prepared this beforehand," the goblin coughed, "And we will only be reading your section of the will, as each portion is private between the receiver and the will-maker."

Harry nodded as the goblin read, "Hello Harry, if you're reading this, or being read it, something deadly serious has happened to me," the goblin sighed at the word serious and Harry had a sudden thought that the man had used his own name there, "and, if James is gone or something, or even Lily, I have decided to leave everything to you, in the event I don't have any other pups out there," this time, Harry detected an inside joke, "so, basically, you're the Head of the Black Family, which should come with immediate emancipation, if you're underage, and a few houses. Your dad was my best friend, and your mum was one of my closest friends as well. In my eyes, you're my kid too, no matter how much your dad may say I'm the crazy uncle. Live well, give 'em hell, and carry on my legacy, pup."

The goblin finished, and Harry felt his eyes tear up, wiping them away, "You said he was incarcerated?"

Narltooth frowned, "Yes...Well, he was, it was reported he broke out quite recently. Reading this however, makes me question..."

"Why was he imprisoned?" Harry asked.

"Well, it was reported he was the one to betray your parents to Tom Riddle," Narltooth answered, "Though I must personally admit when I saw him come in here with your father, though it was just at glance, nothing seemed to say he was the type to betray them, quite the opposite and this reinforces it."

"Would you mind checking into it for me," Harry asked, "It might be troublesome, but I feel like there's some other issue."

Narltooth nodded, "Out of respect for you, Lord Potter, I shall. Not many wizards treat us with respect nowadays, it is a pleasure to meet one that does."

"Thank you," Harry answered and Narltooth presented Harry with the keys to his vaults, the stack of papers marking his properties, vault numbers and the object contained, and a total estimation of his wealth from each vault individually and total. After Harry stored them in his trunk, which had lain basically forgotten on the floor, he thanked Narltooth once more and was led back to the main hall of the bank.

The Boy-Who-Lived exited the back and turned in the direction Tom had mentioned, Partia Alley was supposed to be close to the Cauldron's exit. Turning in the direction, Harry soon found the rather small alley and slipped through it, finally arriving at the other end. Unlike Diagon, Partia Alley seemed to be catering more to muggleborns and people in support of muggle-like activities. Looking around carefully, he finally spotted the 'clinic' mentioned on the small business card that he had found on his trunk.

Entering, he was greeted by a young witch at the counter dressed in muggle clothes. She seemed to be doodling on something and scrambled to hide it when Harry entered. "Mister Cornwall? We've got a visitor!"

A moment later a middle-aged man came scrambling out of a door at the back of the room, "How unexpected, usually we don't-" the man stopped and spluttered, "M-mister Potter! A wonderful, wonderful pleasure! What have you come to see us about today?"

Harry resisted the urge to bark at the man about how he was just Harry and instead spoke calmly, "Sorry for merely barging in, but I felt I had been dealing with this," he pointed at his glasses, "for far too long. And, a full check-up possibly?"

"OH, an easy fix, Mister Potter, a rather cheap one at that, as for the check-up, follow me, please!" The man gestured towards the door and Harry followed him back into a series of rooms where the man finally had him enter one and sit on a cot. "Alright... Eye-Repair...Where..." a sudden exclamation of 'Aha' from the man and he pulled out a potion, "Alright, if you'll drink this Mister Potter."

Harry took and quickly downed the potion.

"There we are," Mister Cornwall pulled out his wand, muttering a few words and Harry's vision blurred, "Any better?" Harry shook his head. A few lourder mutters and his vision cleared a bit, a bit better than originally.

"Alright, better?" Harry nodded enthusiastically, the wizard muttered a final time and Harry's became crystal clear, better even than that provided by his glasses.

"Amazing," Harry said, gaping and looking around. Cornwall beamed.

"I should hope so, I worked on that for years," the man bragged, though it was definitely deserved, "Took ages of muggle research. Even so, not many people enter here."

Harry was shocked, "They don't?"

"You're the first walk-in, but we have a few regulars."

Harry's wide eyes remained, "They have to be mental, this is fantastic!"

"Well, if you wouldn't mind telling everyone where you got this done, I won't charge you for this appointment or others you may need," Cornwall offered.

"I'll still pay, but I will definitely be mentioning this," Harry said.

"Alright, then at least a discount. One Galleon per visit?"

"Deal," Harry said, and Cornwall smiled brightly.

"Excellent, now, you wanted a full check-up, correct?" Cornwall pulled out his wand and began waving it over Harry as it glowed. The glowing light, like a much more tame _Lumos_ changed colors as it passed over Harry and the wizards before him would mutter quietly with each change. A few extra passes and Cornwall was frowning.

"Mister Potter," the wizard said, "You've got quite a number of scars and bruises, even a few under-the-skin ones as well. Some of your bones are less healthy than others, notably your arm."

"Yeah, that one got completely regrown last year," he answered.

"Well, while they are regrown, it seems they weren't regrown as they should have been. Skelegro on its own can do the trick but its is best that, while being treated, you eat all three meals with heavy amounts of protein and calcium. I can, of course, give you a potion that should pull the necessary amount to properly heal the bones, but it's the rest of your body that disturbs me. Suffice to say, you show very strong signs of malnourishment and abuse."

"That'll be the Dursleys," Harry muttered.

"Simply put, I'll be scheduling a daily dosage of nourishment potions, after you take this one here," he handed Harry a small glass, "Which I will deliver by owl. After a month or two, you'll need to check back in. Otherwise, eat healthy and exercise, as the muggles say."

"Thank you, Mister Cornwall," Harry nodded.

"It was a pleasure, helping those who need it is exactly why I am in this profession," the man smiled, "You take that potion and you'll start your potion regiment tomorrow, for now, you can pay my daughter out in the entry."

Harry nodded, downed the potion, and grabbed his shrunk down trunk before heading out into the hall. Upon reaching the end, he opened the door and paid the girl, who smiled brightly at him, before he exited the building.

Crossing the road and heading straight for the very large gym-style building across the street, Harry entered and was greeted by a young man. "Hello, welcome to Ross's Wizarding Training and Practice Center, here for a day, or a membership?"

"A membership, I should think," Harry answered.

"Excellent, do you have an exercise attire with you?" the young man asked.

"Well, not at the moment, though I will do some shopping when my friends get here," Harry responded.

"That is quite alright, the lockers, one of which you will be assigned, should already have a set in it, which will be cleaned at the end of the day so you can use them the next time you come in," the young man smiled, "the monthly fee is only 7 Galleons, a yearly is 70, and our bi-yearly is only 150."

"Erm, I'll do the bi-yearly, if you can charge it to my vaults," Harry answered, setting his trunk down beside the counter.

"Excellent, I assume you know the Gringotts Billing Form?" Harry nodded a yes, "Excellent."

He quickly filled it out and the man handed him a card with, as soon as he touched it, showed his name in cursive. "You'll place it against your locker, which will also have your name on it, to open and lock it."

Harry nodded and picked up his trunk with the other hand. "It was a pleasure, Mister Potter," the young man grinned. Harry smiled back and turned towards the door, and stared at the extremely muggle style locker room. After a moment or two of searching, during which he noted the room was mostly empty, he finally found his locker at the far end of the room and, like the wizard said, opened it with the card.

It swung open and on an upper shelf was a silk t-shirt, a bit large for him but it would do, and a pair of trousers. Setting his trunk, which thankfully fit in the locker, down, Harry grabbed the clothes, shut the locker, and locked it before stripping down to his undergarments and putting on the exercise gear. If he was going to do any better, he needed to be more healthy first and Quidditch only went so far.

It was several hours later, sore in many places, that he finally left and headed towards the Leaky Cauldron. Trudging up the steps he collapsed on his bed and started to fall asleep. He was half conscious when the door to his room opened. Sitting up, he blearily looked around. There was nothing, except a black shaggy dog which he couldn't help but feel he had seen before. The dog looked around before suddenly shifting into a very shaggy-haired and gaunt looking man.

"What the bloody hell?" Harry yelped, flinging himself back to the far side of the bed.

"Sorry miss, I thought this was- Lily!?" The man gaped, before shaking his head. "I must be seeing things. Anyways, I thought this was Harry Potter's room."

"It is," Harry muttered, still bewildered. Too confused to notice the 'miss' and 'Lily' bits.

"Oh that dog," the man smirked, "Definitely my godson."

"Wait, godson?" Harry asked, eyes widening.

"Yeah, I was a friend of his dad and mom's," the man answered.

"Wait, does that mean I can live with you? Like, I can leave the Dursley's?" Harry sputtered.

"Yeah he, wait I? DURSLEY'S!?" the man roared, grabbing Harry's shoulders. "They put him with those, those…" a list of expletives flew from the man's mouth at a startling rate. "I'm going to kill Dumbledore."

Confusion blossomed on Harry's face, and the man suddenly jumped back. "Harry!?"

"Yes, who did you think you were talking to?"

"Well, a cute younger girl who looked shockingly like your mother, thought she was your girlfriend or something," the man grinned, "Potters seem to have a thing for redheads, or at least they have. Didn't know it was you though."

"Wait, girl!?"

"Yeah, didn't you know what you looked like? I mean, you were sleeping like that," he said.

"..." Harry remained silently staring at the man.

"...I'll take that as a no," the shaggy man answered, "Well, it's not that weird, it is a Potter ability after all. You should know."

A rapid head shake was the answer and the shaggy man looked upwards, "Merlin help me, I am going to flay that man alive." The man shook his head. "Anyways, I'll introduce myself, again, even though you knew me as a baby. I am Sirius Black, your godfather."

"I kind of gathered who you were," Harry said, getting a confused look from Sirius. "You're in the photo album of my parents. Hagrid gave it to me," Harry pulled it out of the side table and passed it over. "Not your name of course."

"Bless that half-giant," Sirius muttered, "Well, it's a good thing you learned from here. Everyone thinks I'm a murderer, and I would be if Pettigrew had gotten away."

"Pettigrew?" Harry asked.

"Our fourth Marauder, and the one that betrayed your parents to Voldemort," Sirius said, calmly. Harry gaped and then something hardened in his eyes.

"He's alive?"

"Yeah," Sirius answered, "I was going to hunt him down at Hogwarts, but something told me to find you first."

"How do we get him?" Harry almost spat.

"He's hiding as your friend's rat, the red-headed boy," Sirius said, "All of the Marauders were Animagi, which, when I'm done, you will be too."

"Really?"

"We had some great times. Your dad was a stag, Lupin was a werewolf, not an animagus, Pettigrew was a rat, and I was a dog," Sirius grinned. "Lupin was the reason we became Animagi."

Harry nodded, understandingly. "I'd do the same for a friend."

"Excellent, you'll be a Marauder yet," Sirius laughed.

 **Non-Canon Spells**

 _Ecasis Mortum -_ "Encase Death" basically a spell designed by ancient Egyptian wizards to momentarily freeze the possibility of death.

 _Forte Corporis -_ "Shield Body" similar to the first spell, this one prevents any major harm from being done during a procedure.

 _Manar Seris Anima -_ "Magic Cut Soul" a spell designed to move a Horcrux to another container. Doesn't have a flawless success rate, not even close. Hence why Bill used the other two spells, to make sure Harry wouldn't die if the Horcrux backlashed.

 **De Author's Notes**

You lot are probably going to detest me for a few things, so...

The Wizarding Populace numbers at around 500,000 in the UK, at least at start. (That one fic I read where it was 9000 made me just wanna facepalm) To be fair, yes Voldemort, but on the other end I mean, come on. So, as for numbers, you can consider that since Grindelwald and Voldemort's disappearance, the magical populace have been less cautious and this allowed a bit of a population growth. As in this fic, with a few numbers how many people attending Hogwarts. Since Hogwarts is free public education, I've deduced that it's mostly muggleborns and somewhat less wealthy purebloods, usually. So, in Hogwarts, about 100 students per House per year. With about 10, with varying purebloods per. To be honest, it's almost a reverse for Slytherin with around 20 muggleborns or less per year. Hufflepuff also lacks purebloods to the point where it's around 2 or 3 per year. So, all in all, around 3000 students.

*waves arms all crazily like as yelling MATHS*

*arm waving ceases*

*waves arms in arch over head and says LOGIC*

Also, I don't see why the Potters couldn't have a decent investment, what with Harry's grandparents and all the stuff we haven't learned about them. Plus, the chances of being descended from a founder are high, but... Yeah, Ravenclaw was unexpected wasn't it? *mischievous hand wringing* He's also given Slytherin, painfully weakened and devastated by the Gaunts, who, despite name changes, still held the House, because of the soul connection with Voldemort. So, yeah, call me stupid all you bloody well like, because, quite frankly madam, I don't give a damn. *tilts bowler hat, which, quite probably, clashes horribly with hair*

Also-

Movie!Harry =/= Book!Harry

Movie!Dumbledore =/= Book!Dumbledore

Etc. Thats how I have it in my head.


End file.
